To the Victor Goes the Spoils
by Lady of the Void
Summary: L refused to lose. So what if he had to bend the laws of common decency and morality? Definitely unsettling and with some gore. Oneshot. L/Light, L/Raito


After the retinal and fingerprint scans, the massive steel door gave way

A/N: My first DN fic! I'd been dying to write one for the longest time and finally got the inspiration I needed. But yes, I understand this is way creepy. And no, I do not like treating Light this way, as he is my favorite character. For the good of the story, I guess. Thanks for reading! I edited to make it an easier format.

After the retinal and fingerprint scans, the massive steel door gave way. L stood at the doorway, admiring the culmination of his accomplishments. And to think just two years ago he had almost lost his life to the serial killing sociopath Kira. Well, that period in his life was long gone now. He had come a long way in those two years. As if it was even possible, his international fame had grown staggeringly. Bringing Kira to justice was the very first step in a long series of successes.

L smiled at the memory and no one was there to see it glint sharply against his surroundings. The plush blood red carpet of his suite was a soothing sight to the tired detective. The walls were a dark mahogany wood; the whole feel of the suite relaxed him. He had insisted on designing the interior himself, since his aesthetic taste was far from what most people would consider normal. In fact, the average person would feel very ill at ease in the dark, intimate cavern L had created for himself. That was just as well. The retinal and fingerprint scans kept even the most daring inquisitive from discovering his inner sanctum. The steel doors closed and locked behind him. He had forgotten they worked automatically but did not flinch at the sound.

He was home.

The sound of the doors closing announced his presence to the apartment's other occupant. L set down his laptop case and walked over towards the coffee table. There used to always be a newspaper on the table, but the headlines had often distressed the other inhabitant, so he stopped leaving them out in the mornings. The table was bare, and he had only approached it out of habit. Before L had time to sit down on the luxurious dark blue sofa, the other man was upon him.

Strong hands curved around his neck and delicate lips met his in an affectionate kiss. L stared into the warm chocolate eyes of Light Yagami. The young man's hug was comfortable and happy. L relished the look of contentment and innocence he saw in Light's eyes. They shined easily and for a second, L wondered how it was possible for a murderer to look that way. Never mind, he knew how it was possible, but that did nothing to distract from the creeping uneasiness. He petted Light's soft chestnut hair; it felt like the finest silk between his fingers. Light made a soft noise of contentment, and L forgot about his previous unease. Light's expression was openly shameless, his cheeks blushing prettily and his lips turning a very tempting shade of red. Like a lovely red apple, L thought.

His own eyes darkened with lust as he pushed Light down onto the navy couch. Throwing the boy's burgundy sweater across the room, he straddled Light's hips. Yes, there were certain things he could not have dreamed of doing two years ago, he thought as he stroked the side of Light's neck, which had become a daily part of his life. The old Light would never have allowed L to touch him like this, yet the new Light was squirming underneath the detective, silently begging to be caressed. After all, L reasoned, it was like declawing an otherwise lovely kitten. The consequences were only positive for both men and for the world.

He was sure the old Light hadn't expected it. Then again, the old Light had no real sense of how far L would go to solve the case. No one did, except for L himself. There was no way L would have lowered himself into losing against that impudent brat. His anger flared for a moment at the memories of almost losing, and he bit hard into said impudent brat's neck, which was conveniently laid bare to him. Light cried out, and L snapped back into the situation at hand. He kissed the injury gently and began to kiss a trail down Light's neck, towards his collarbone.

This Light and the one that had mentally tortured him were not one and the same. The old Light was malicious and calculating, nothing like the young man turning a pretty shade of rose at L's ministrations. The old Light was Kira. L knew it plainly, yet he struggled to prove his theories against the general laws of reason. The whole case defied logic, so much that L had to trust his intuition completely. He had surrendered control of his conscience and allowed savage instincts to prove Light guilty.

Kira the mastermind was arrogant to a fault and would never lose. But L knew that he would never lose either. Kira had gone far, so far that his soul was blackened with sin, in order to beat the detective. L went farther. He knew that he was dead at his first misstep and that was not a chance the young detective cared to take. Light moaned as L's pink tongue found a nipple. Yes, L had won by using creative means. It was really much too easy.

He remembered the men pinning down Light's arms. It took at least six men to hold down the wily teenager. What a marvel that boy was. Strong, uncannily so, and passionate. He had screamed and snarled at the men, and L remembered being turned on by the ferocious and willful boy struggling against the leather restraints he had been shoved into. He had tried to stroke the boy's cheek, only to find his fingers being bitten fiercely by that luscious mouth. Oh, how he had wanted, coveted the boy who would have been the greatest murderer, the god of the new world.

Light had cried out to Ryuzaki after seeing the syringe. He wasn't going to beg, that was clear.

"L…" Light cried out, skin trembling against the detective's mouth. "…please."

Kira had never begged. L remembered his eyes widening into pools of liquid amber, and the fear. The fear was so ripe, L wanted to taste it. He had licked the sweat from Kira's neck and rejoiced in his own savagery.

Light covered L's fingers with saliva and accepted them willingly into his body with a sharp intake of breath.

The needle went in easily and as long as L lives, he cannot forget the scream. It is the most beautiful sound he has ever heard and the thought of it almost makes him come. It was more than the exhilaration of victory; it was a private ecstasy in itself.

L plunges into the murderer with full force. He wants to here him scream. It can never be as great as that time, but he wants it all the same. L bites ferally at the mark he has already made on Light's neck.

Light cries out, but it is not enough, not tonight.

He bites again, an inhuman glint tainting the smooth blackness of his eyes. Light cries out louder, and the blood begins to drip. L pushes in harder, as if trying to rip Light in half. He is not gentle as he pulls the boy's wrists above his head and grips them tightly, bruising to be sure.

He remembered after the scream, the drug-induced haze that overtook the teen's unusually sharp mind. It took very little to convince the drugged up man to verbally give up his death note.

And just like that it was over. The world was allowed to be at peace, and L could quietly negotiate the death sentence down in order to keep his prize. The boy was harmless, with absolutely no memories of any of the killing. L thought that was the thing Kira would have hated the most: becoming ignorant and naïve once again.

Light could no longer see the blood on his hands, nor could he be allowed his freedom. He was more than grateful when the world's greatest detective halted his execution and saved him from what could have been a brutal murder in jail.

He owed L more than his life. L could keep this new Light at his side and enjoy the innocent and docile boy forever. With the sin gone, he was no longer a threat. In fact, he was quite penitent and all the more ready to receive whatever his ultimate judge and lover would give him. How the real Kira would break down if he knew what he was doing! That was the real beauty in it: it was an irreversible punishment for all time. Light was at his mercy indefinitely.

Light whimpered as his soft pink lips were ripped open with L's teeth. L was violently forcing himself into Light, over and over and over. Light quivered underneath his judge, tears floating down his face as innocent as the morning dew. A merciless bite on his shoulder was the last thing he could take. He screamed. L came hard inside his bruised and bleeding body. L pulled out, breathing hard.

It wasn't enough. It was never enough.

Inspiration struck and he put his index finger into the largest of Light's neck wounds. Then he painted the "M."

He wasn't always this harsh to Light, after all, Light lived only to serve him.

The "U" came next, the curve of the letter flowing delicately in the crimson paint.

Light was his prize, he had outsmarted the younger man. Who was this petulant boy to challenge L?

"R" came next.

L had never cheated. Drugging Kira had been for the greater good.

"D" came out more violent than the other letters.

It was for the best; only the most ruthless survive.

"E" was drawn sharp and pointed.

Kira was a bad man; L was a hero for protecting the world.

"R" looked raw.

Kira needed to learn his place; he needed to be humbled.

"E" was smooth and precise.

L was justice.

"R" was perfect in every way.

L turned to admire his flawless human canvas, the pale skin contrasting elegantly to the deep red word. He kissed the boy's bleeding lips and whispered "Never forget," against them. L stalked over to his bedroom, leaving a work of art to suffer anew against the blood red carpet.


End file.
